


Should Old Aquaintence Be Forgot

by moonwillow27458



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Pining, Pre-Series, Queer Sam Winchester, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwillow27458/pseuds/moonwillow27458
Summary: Sam has no plans for New Years Eve. His roommate, Brady, does - that is until he decides to spend the night with Sam.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's been a while (again aha) I'm gonna start posting more in the new year, I promise (I have a schedule and everything!) Which means regular updates on my chaptered fics and hopefully more posting during the week 
> 
> Anyways, happy new year y'all! Have this obligatory New Years fic

Sam had just picked up his third textbook of the night when he heard the shower switch off. He waited for a moment, eyes on the door, for Brady to come back in. As predicted, his roommate appeared in the doorway not two minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist. Brady's hair looked soft and damp, a little darker than usual because of the colder weather. He pulled a face when his eyes met Sam's, causing Sam to laugh.

"It's fucking freezing in that hallway," Brady bit out, over exaggerating the chattering of his teeth.

"That's because it's winter, Dingus," Sam grinned back, pointing to the one window in their dorm. Brady sniffed and shook his head.

"We don't get winter in Cali," he replied, stumbling over to their mirror. He shivered again, but didn't make a move to put on the clothes he'd laid out on his bed. 

Sam didn't know where he was going, but it must be important because he's spent hours picking out the right clothes. If he were to guess, Sam would say he was going to a new year's eve party, probably with the intention to hook up with someone. Sam hadn't been invited to any parties, not that he would have gone, but he'd have hoped that maybe the rich guy in his history, Harrison, might have invited him somewhere. Maybe people just didn't like him.

"There's a party being thrown by this chick in my sociology if you wanna come," Brady said, almost like he could read Sam's thoughts. More likely, Sam just wasn't as subtle as he thought he was.

"No thanks, it's just not new years without Dean," Sam muttered. He pulled his textbook in front of his face while Brady dressed, eyes just peeking over the top of his page so he could see Brady's toned abs. Brady didn't notice, so Sam let himself indulge for a second longer before returning to his reading. He'd managed to read a paragraph before the book was ripped from his hands.

"How many times has your brother called since you got here?" Brady asked harshly, holding the book just out of Sam's reach. A blush crept across Sam's face, but he refused to answer. Dean hadn't called him once, but that was probably their Dad's stubbornness than anything else. "How many times have I been here for you?" Brady's tone was softer, more sympathetic, as he sat beside Sam on his bed.

"You're always there for me, Brady," Sam sighed, willing himself not to look at Brady's half open shirt. "And I appreciate it, but-"

"No buts," Brady scolded, placing his finger over Sam's lips. "Just come out with me, it only has to be a coupl'a hours. What are you even studying for, next exams aren't until the end of March?" He held Sam's history textbook at arms length, pretending to be disgusted by it. Sam laughed again, before grimacing.

"I'm sorry Brady," he mumbled, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. A sigh came from Brady's direction, and Sam felt Brady's broad hand on his thigh before the bed creaked. Sam was too lost in the warm feeling on his thigh to notice Brady had moved back to the mirror.

There were a tense silence in the dorm. Sam wanted to say something, explain that he just didn't feel like going out - that it had nothing to do with Brady. He watched as his roommate gelled back his hair, drenched himself in cologne, underlined his eyes with black khol. He watched with longing. In turn, Brady was watching Sam through the mirror, trying to keep the worry off his face.

Once he was done, he muttered a quick goodbye to Sam before heading for the door. Sam didn't want to see the disappointment on Brady's face so held his textbook in front of his eyes. He missed the longing look that Brady sent him, just winced when the door slammed shut. Sam was alone, again.

That was until the door opened again and Brady stormed back in. 

Sam glanced up at his roommate in confusion. Why was Brady back already? He watched Brady barrel around the room, messing up his hair and rubbing his eyeliner until he looked like a racoon. He stopped in front of Sam's bed, an expectant look on his face. Sam could practically feel his foot tapping like an inpatient mother. Frowning, Sam shifted his textbook to get a clearer look at Brady.

"What're you-"

"Couldn't leave you alone, not on new years," Brady winked, jumping onto Sam's bed. All of Sam's books slipped from the sheets to the floor, and Brady shuffled closer to Sam's side. "So, we're going to put in a film, I'm gonna listen to you bitch and whine about your family, you're gonna watch me get drunk off my ass, and we're gonna have a good time. Just the two of us."

True to his word, Brady pushed himself up off the bed and stumbled to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of beer for himself, a can of diet coke for Sam - he wasn't up for drinking, drinking reminded him of his Dad and thinking of his Dad made him feel sick. Brady knelt beside their small TV set, running his fingers over the videos they had stacked on the coffee table. 

"What do you wanna watch?" Brady asked Sam, fingers brushing the battered case for Fight Club.

"Well, me and Dean usually watch Forrest Gump on New Years," Sam mused. He didn't know if Brady even had the VHS for it, but Sam loved the film so much, he'd consider running down to the video store to rent it. "Dean always knew how to time it so the New Years scene with those prostitutes came on when it turned to midnight."

"So we'll put that on then," Brady smiled, shoving a worn out copy of the film into the VHS player. It crackled a little but, after a few seconds of static, the familiar title sequence burst onto the screen.

Brady sat back on the bed beside Sam, the thin mattress dipping under him. Instinctively, Sam shifted so he was pressed into Brady's side, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead, Brady returned the gesture by putting his arm around Sam's shoulders. It was an awkward fit, Sam had a good few inches on Brady, but somehow it was comfortable. Sam fell asleep before the first flashback.

 

"Sam? Sam, wake up." Someone was shaking Sam's shoulder, whispering gently in his ear. When he opened his eyes, Sam found Brady leant over him, a wide grin on his stupidly perfect face. For a second, Sam considered turning back over and going back to sleep, but Brady's fingers started digging at his side. He jolted forward with a chuckle. 

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Brady laughed. "It's nearly midnight, get up."

"Brady, what's going on?" Sam questioned, looking around the room. Somewhere he could hear some muted music, there were some flashing lights outside the window but Sam was too tired to make sense of it.

"It's 2002 in two minutes, Sammy boy," Brady tapped the side of Sam's leg, his fingers lingering there. "You made it! We made it!"

"Brady, are you drunk?" Sam asked carefully. He'd never seen Brady this happy before, it made Sam a little happy too.

"No, Sam, I'm just happy I get to roll in the new year with my best friend," he replied. There was the reminder. They were nothing but friends, would never be anything else. Sam's shoulders dropped a little, but Brady didn't even seem to notice.

The TV was still flickering away in the background. As if by magic, Brady had timed it perfectly, and the New Years scene of Forrest Gump had just started playing. Outside, the music was being turned down so the countdown could start. 

"Sam, I'm gonna do something stupid, and I need you to go along with me for just a second," Brady said quietly. He was twisting his fingers in the hem of his shirt, his eyes not quite lifting to meet Sam's. This was so unlike Brady, usually he was the life and soul of the room, bright and bubbly and bold. He wasn't the sort to blush.

"Are you okay?" Sam pressed, searching Brady's face for any hint of distress. In the quad bellow the dorm, the other students had started the countdown, ten more seconds until the end of the year.

"Sit up," Brady pulled Sam up fully by his arms, so they were at the same height. The countdown was nearly over; two more seconds, one more second.

And like that, Brady leant in and kissed Sam. Fireworks flew everywhere, outside the bright colours were lighting up the dim dorm room but even so they could not compare to the fireworks in Sam's chest. Once it had quietened down, Brady tried to pull away but Sam couldn't let him go. Not after a kiss like that. Sam rested his forehead against Brady's and smiled.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," Brady sighed. His smile was wider than Sam's, his eyes half lidded. "You have no idea how hard it's been trying to stop myself from kissing you." Sam laughed, because of course he did. He'd spent just as much of the term restraining himself as Brady had.

"Shut up and kiss me again," Sam muttered. Brady happily obliged.

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to post this yesterday but I never got round to it because (believe it or not) I got invited to a party 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading, please leave kudos it feeds my soul 
> 
> For more great content ;) my tumblr is [here](http://benevolentsam.tumblr.com)


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